


you say you had your heart broken (what a stupid little thing to do)

by forbiddenquill



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Emily and Alison's relationship as narrated by the girls, F/F, Slight Ezra/Aria in the background, Slight Hanna/Caleb/Spencer mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenquill/pseuds/forbiddenquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily and Alison's relationship through the eyes of the girls. </p><p> </p><p>Post A-moji mess. Everything follows up to 7x03 but after that, its completely canon-divergent. The girls are rebuilding whatever is left of their lives but have taken quite an interest in Emily and Alison's relationship, seeing as Emily finally has a chance with the girl she's been in love for nearly a decade now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2 Months After

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Catapult" by Jack Savoretti. I've been listening to that song for days, giving me the needed inspiration to continue this little fic. 
> 
> I was little bit curious to how the girls would react to the couple, seeing as they've been very disapproving from the start. But I figured that they'd be supportive as hell (especially Hanna, whose hands spilled Rollins's blood) and I wanted to showcase the struggles of them accepting this relationship and working together in order to push Emily and Alison together.
> 
> Of course, working together means setting aside their differences. While this is an Emison fic, there might be some slight narration concerning the whole Hanna/Caleb/Spencer relationship and Aria's dreams of becoming a writer. But let's just say that pushing Emily and Alison together will make the other girls realize what they've been taking for granted all this time.

 

**[Hanna; 2 months after she hit her best friend's husband with a car]**

Okay, Hanna is not blind. She’s not as blind as Spencer, who brushes off Emily and Alison’s relationship behind other things she has to worry about, like post-election victory and Caleb, for that matter, and she’s definitely not as blind as Aria, who is so busy building a path to her career that the thought of Emily and Alison bumping uglies with each other is old news. Okay, Hanna is so _not_ blind.

After breaking off her engagement with Jordan and temporarily swearing boys off for a while (Spencer’s done the same; the only difference is that the brunette is burying herself in work while the blonde is prying on the love life of her two best friends), Hanna has discovered that she’s got plenty of time in her hands. And after Elliot Rollins’s untimely demise (she _refuses_ to think about it) and Mary Drake’s arrest, she spends her time walking around the town she loathes in (because she can’t stand the idea of crawling back to New York, where Jordan is) and has brought a mission upon herself.

Find evidence that Emily and Alison are dating. Or, heading into that direction. She doesn’t have an honest idea with those two. She briefly remembers Emily trying that bandwagon a while back, when Ali returned, but knows that it didn’t end well. It ended up with Emily in the dollhouse and Ali in prison.

(She doesn’t have an honest idea about anything, to be honest. She has nightmares about Rollins and what he did to her and sometimes, she can’t even bear to look at Lucas without wanting to cry because he reminds her too much of Jordan and Caleb all in one mix.)

(She thinks that throwing herself into someone’s relationship is the best idea, for now.)

(Maybe she feels guilty about Rollins too.)

And that’s how Hanna finds herself sitting across Emily in her old bedroom, surprised to find that things haven’t changed in her space. There are still swimming medals and trophies all decorated around the walls, pictures of the girls (and one _huge_ copy of Alison’s missing poster) still hanging besides the closet and old high school yearbooks piled on top of her desk. It oddly reminds Hanna of five years ago, where she spent a few nights here and there, comforting Emily through her every break-up and –A madness. She’s glad to see that some things haven’t changed.

(God knows that she needs something _stable_ and _fixed_ in her completely fucked up life.)

Emily is getting out of the shower when Hanna looks up from her phone.

“We should totally watch this cool new horror movie next week,” the blonde says noncommittally, sitting up on her elbows and grinning at the brunette. “Us and the rest of the girls.”

“God, don’t look, you perv.” Emily’s tone is joking as she grabs a few clothes from the closet.

“ _Please_ ,” Hanna says, rolling her eyes, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Well, five years have passed since our last sleepover, Han,” Emily points out as Hanna turns her face away good-naturedly, “and I doubt that the things you’ve seen before are still the same.”

Hanna wonders if Alison’s seen an updated version of those _things_ and coughs to herself. “Well, whatever. Anyway, what do you say about the movie? Think Ali’s up for it?”

She quickly turns her head back to Emily’s direction, quick enough that she catches a look flash across the brunette’s face. _Gotcha_. The name being brought up is enough for Emily to go quiet for a few seconds and really, it’s _just_ a movie—Hanna doubts that Emily needs those extra seconds to think about it. She tilts her chin against her knuckles, smiles against her fist and watches as Emily shimmies into some sweatpants.

“I don’t know,” Emily says haltingly, like she’s unsure of her answer.

“You _don’t_ know?” Hanna repeats, mockingly even. “You and Ali have been spending so much time together. I think she needs a break from grieving creepface and hang out with the rest of her gal pals.”

The thought of Rollins brings an unpleasant lurch to her stomach and she closes her eyes, tries to push away the image of his bloodied face imprinted in the back of her lids and exhales a deep breath. When she opens them again, Emily is standing at the foot of her bed, her expression unreadable.

“Han,” she says, sighing, “It’s only been two months—”

“She was barely married to the guy for a week,” Hanna snaps, different emotions building up inside her—guilt, horror and relief throwing her heart around like a tennis ball, “Seriously, Em. I haven’t seen her around. You’ve been keeping her busy, I suppose.”

Emily’s lips form a thin line and if Spencer was here, Hanna would imagine her quickly jumping into that sort of reaction and demanding an explanation. And if Aria was here, she’d probably sit back and wait for Emily to talk first, like a therapist on the first day of a session. But those two aren’t here. Instead, Hanna is, and she does a mixture of both as she grins and sits up straighter, waiting for a few more seconds before she pounces at the bait ahead.

“ _Well_?” she says, “Any comment?”

“Ali just needs me, that’s all,” Emily answers, her tone neutral but her eyes are hiding something. Hanna knows the girl long enough to differentiate her confused look and guilty look. This time, it’s a mixture of both.

Hanna tries not to bristle at that. Alison has always reached out to Emily first and foremost, which is understandable, considering that they had loved each other the most in their younger years. (Everybody could see that Alison favored Emily the most.) What hurts is how willing Emily is to drop everything and go to her aid. It reminds Hanna of Jordan and Caleb, the two boys who would’ve gone to hell and back to make her happy.

(She guesses that she _should_ be happy Alison’s finally found that in Emily but it doesn’t make it any easier.)

Emily must notice her silence because she reaches forward and grips Hanna’s hand. Hanna looks up, eyebrows raises as the brunette offers a soft smile.

“That movie sounds great,” she tells her, “but we should have dinner at The Grille first, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course. So you’ll go?”

“Definitely. I’ll tell Alison about it.”

“Of course you will,” Hanna says, adding a bit of mystery in her tone and Emily’s face morphs quickly into her confused one and the blonde laughs, shaking her head and pulling the other girl in a for a hug. “This is great,” she adds, “I’ve missed you guys.”

She does. It’s been five years since she last saw all of them together and the image reminds her of all the childhood pictures she kept with her, even after all this time. And now that everything has finally died down and they can all have their peace, she’s desperate for a bit of familiarity, for their whole world to finally revolve around the five of them once more.

“We’ve always been here, Han,” Emily murmurs, rubbing her back soothingly.

Hanna laughs to herself. Emily referring to her and Ali as _we_ seems an awful lot like what couples did. But yeah, whatever, if Emily isn’t ready to tell her what her deal with Alison is yet, then Hanna can wait. Without a job or a fiancé for that matter, she has plenty of time to do just that.

 

* * *

 

When Hanna arrives at the restaurant, the others are already there. And _of course_ , Emily and Alison are sitting next to each other. No surprise there. (Hanna pauses for half a second when she sees that the only available seat left is next to Spencer and tries to push down the heartbreak that rises in her chest). Aria spots her first, waving her over and Hanna forces a smile as she slides in next to Spencer.

“So, have you guys ordered yet?” Hanna asks.

“We were waiting for you,” Spencer says, offering her a hesitant smile.

“And now that you’re here,” Alison begins, propping open the menu, “we can order. Do you see anything you like?”

Hanna barely glances at the menu before seeing that her favorite dish is still up. She calls for the waiter as Spencer and Aria discuss splitting the bill. Emily and Alison are talking in hushed tones, pointing at various items in the menu and touching each other innocently. Hanna narrows her eyes when she spots Ali placing her hand on Emily’s knee after she’s finished ordering. The rest place in their orders as well.

Hanna leans back in her chair, quickly shutting her phone off as she listens to Aria gushing excitedly about her book deal. Apparently, she and Ezra have already been given their schedules about the whole thing and Hanna is so happy for her that she nearly cries. Spencer notices how shiny her eyes are and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

(Hanna involuntarily stiffens. Spencer notices and tries not to look hurt as she pulls away.)

“Han, are you crying?” Emily asks, sounding very worried. Alison is looking at her as well, brows furrowed.

“God, no,” Hanna says, waving off their concerns. Aria reaches out from across the table to hold her hand and Hanna laughs. “I’m just,” she starts, “Something’s wrong with my contacts but I’m really happy for you, Aria. I always knew you’d be one of those bigshot writers.”

“I’m a long way from becoming the next Fitzgerald,” Aria tells her gently. Everything about Aria is gentle.

Hanna wipes at her eyes with a tissue and waves away their prying looks. “Jesus, I’m fine. My contacts just got—mismatched or something. Anyway, _Alison—_ ” she smiles when Emily shoots her a look “—I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The blonde returns her smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Those two have been tiptoeing around each other for a while now, especially with the fact that Hanna was the one who drove over Rollins but Alison has assured her, on multiple occasions that it’s _fine_.

(Hanna doesn’t think that it’s fine, actually. Her nightmares and panic attacks keep telling her that _nothing_ is fine.)

“Are you still teaching at Rosewood High?” Spencer asks Ali.

“Not as of the moment,” Alison answers, shaking her head. A dark look passes across her features. “I’m taking a leave. I think everybody knows why.”

Aria matches her sad look. “And once more, we are the talk of the town.”

“It’s nice to know that some things don’t change,” Emily mumbles and Alison shoots her a fond look.

Hanna stays quiet, reaching forward and sipping her wine. Conversation changes as Aria starts to ask Emily about finishing college. For once, Emily is not on her defense. In fact, she seems very excited about finishing her degree in Hollis and she talks about how her mother is very supportive about the whole thing. Hanna eyes Alison, who looks at Emily like she’s the light of her life.

“They’re not dating,” Spencer whispers to her quietly.

Hanna glances at her as she finishes her wine in one go. “How do you know?” she asks, her voice low.

“Because Ali came by to the house a week ago,” Spencer answers patiently, looking a little bit nervous talking to Hanna about things unrelated to Caleb or Rollins, “and she told me that Emily had asked of her not to think of things like _that_.”

Hanna scoffs. Such a typical Emily thing to do. Either she’s jumping into new relationships or refusing to go through old ones again. She briefly thinks of Paige and how willing she had been to wait for Emily, even as the girl was going through some tough things. She wonders if Alison is just as willing to do so.

“Emily’s obviously still in love with her,” Hanna mumbles, “I mean, the whole time Ali was in Welby, it almost felt as if Em was going to lose her fucking mind.”

Something flashes across Spencer’s face as she looks away. “Yeah, it felt like it.”

“Glad to see that they’ve worked something out,” Hanna says under her breath and Spencer doesn’t say anything else.

Their order arrives and all chatter dies down. Hanna immediately devours her food, chewing spoonful after spoonful. Spencer is quiet, possibly mulling her conversation with Hanna over and over again. Aria and Ali are talking about literature; _The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice_ and countless others. When Aria brings up _Great Expectations_ , Hanna sees Emily hiding a fond smile behind her closed fist and Alison’s cheeks turning bright red.

Hanna has a feeling that Emily asking Alison not to think of things like _that_ is about to change very soon.

 

* * *

 

They pile into the movie theatre by pairs, which means that Hanna is walking a short distance behind Aria and Spencer, who are too busy talking about post-election deals to notice that Hanna is brooding. (If Caleb or Jordan were here, they’d never leave her out but Hanna shakes that thought away, knows that it’s not good for her.) They’ve picked a horror movie, which she’s thankful of. She doesn’t think she can stand any romantic comedies in her current situation, which might actually lead her to crying or something.

Once they’re seated (Hanna in between Alison and Aria, with Spencer and Emily on the far ends), Ali quickly turns towards her, hesitant smile placed on her face. Hanna has a difficult time trying to forget that this isn’t the old Alison DiLaurentis, one whose smile could either make you or break you, one whose smile was quickly followed by a sharp insult or a thinly veiled threat.

“Hey, Han,” she says, clearing her throat, “I just wanted to say, thanks for inviting me along.”

Hanna returns the smile, even though her heart tightens at the fact that this is the woman who forgave her after killing her husband. She doesn't think she can even forgive herself.

“You’ll always be a part of our little group,” she replies. Then she changes the subject, subtly glancing over at Emily, whose eyes are trained on her phone, “So, how are you and Em?”

Alison’s smile almost falters. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“Oh come _on_ , Ali,” Hanna implores, taking the extra time since the movie hasn’t started yet and making sure that her voice is hushed and low enough for the other girls not to hear, “You’re totally into Emily.”

Hanna expects a snarky rebuttal or a snappy defense mechanism. (God knows that the young Ali was so good at that.) Instead, Alison sighs, runs her fingers through her hair and quietly says, “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Kind of.” Hanna grins, pleased to know that Ali isn’t in some sort of denial stage; Emily obviously is. “Look, I know that Emily thinks that it’s too soon or something but—but—” her voice cracks all of a sudden and she clears her throat, a wave of sadness overwhelming her. The memory of Caleb cradling her face and pressing his lips against hers before she was kidnapped by Rollins comes to mind but she forces it down. “But she loves you,” she finishes, because she knows that it’s nothing but the truth.

Emily loves Alison, always has and always will. Everybody knows it, has probably known it the minute Ali _died_ and came back. And Hanna thinks that even after five years later, even after Ali got married, even after Rollins turned their whole world upside down again, Emily _still_ loves her.

Hanna thinks of Caleb and wants to drown.

Ali is looking at her with a scrutinizing gaze. “You really think that?” she asks, "Because I know that I don't deserve her. I don't deserve anything good in my life."

“Ali, I don’t _think_ it,” Hanna says firmly, her heart falling at the sight of Alison pitying herself. “I _know_ it.”

Before Ali can respond, Emily calls for her attention. The blonde gives her another smile before turning away and Hanna doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until her chest aches and she exhales it hastily. She stares at the couple (or soon-to-be-couple— _Jesus,_ Em, get your grip together) and feels happy at how relaxed and settled they look. Alison is leaning against Emily’s side, the arm of the seat separating them both, and Emily’s hand is lazily tracing her shoulder. They’re talking in hushed voices and Emily’s eyes are fixed on Alison’s—both women are smiling.

Aria touches her shoulder. “Han?”

Hanna doesn’t realize there are tears in her eyes until she blinks them away. Shaking her head, she turns back to Aria, glad that the theatre is dark enough to cover her the red in her irises.

“Do you want to share the popcorn?” Aria asks, smiling softly at her. The gesture is so _touching,_ so Aria-like that Hanna laughs, chastises herself that she’s lived individual lives without Caleb and Jordan in the picture for a long, long time and thinks that—maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t need some boy to make her feel happy.

 

* * *

 

After the movie ends, they all head home. (Hanna dryly notes that Alison spent most of the movie clutching Emily’s arm with her face buried against her flannel.) Spencer and Aria, who arrived together, all say their goodbyes first. Aria hugs Hanna while Alison takes Spencer to the sides to talk to her.

(Hanna closes her eyes once the smaller girl’s arms are around her, remembers Aria’s concern for her after being kidnapped, holds dear to her heart the fact that Aria—even after all these years—knows best when to leave her alone and when to drag her ass out of bed.)

“If you ever need to talk,” Aria whispers against her hair, “just call, okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hanna murmurs.

After Aria, there is Spencer. Hanna feels her heart squeezing on itself at the guarded look in the brunette’s gaze, knows that it’s because of the fact that they loved the same boy a little bit too much and takes the first step forward to engulf Spencer in an embrace.

(Hanna buries her face against the crook of Spencer’s neck, wonders if she held Caleb just as tightly like this and comes to the conclusion that Caleb doesn’t mean half as much as Spencer does. She can lose an ex-boyfriend but she doesn’t think she can lose _Spencer_.)

“I’m really sorry, Han,” Spencer tells her, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, too,” is what Hanna responds.

The two girls drive away, leaving Hanna with the two lovebirds. She turns to them with a huge grin plastered on her face and Emily rolls her eyes, tells her that she’ll take her home. They pile into Emily’s car (Alison in the shotgun seat, a fact that Hanna chooses to overlook because five years ago, Hanna would’ve been in that seat) and drive away. Emily is the one leading the conversation this time, telling Hanna all about the new cafés and restaurants popping up near Hollis. She doesn’t mention Caleb nor Jordan and not even New York and for that, Hanna is grateful.

Alison chirps in as well, sharing insights about what Rosewood has been like for the past few years and even comparing a group of girls at the school with their younger selves. Hanna laughs at that, because she doesn’t think there’s a more unfortunate incident than someone else going through what they suffered. Emily and Ali must share the same feeling because the atmosphere in the car plummets.

Hanna says, without thinking, “So when are you guys going to have your first date?”

Emily is so shocked that she nearly hits a fire hydrant, swerving at the last minute to avoid certain death and Hanna hits her head against the ceiling, pain momentarily striking her blind and dazed. When all of their hearts and stomachs have settled, Alison shoots Hanna a half-stern, half-panicked look.

“We’re not heading into that direction,” Emily says the same time Ali mutters, “Thanks for being straightforward, Han.”

Hanna sighs, rubs her temple. “Why not?” she asks, the question directed mostly at Emily.

“ _Because_ ,” Emily stresses the word, as if it’s enough to explain why she won’t go after the girl she’s been pining over for nearly a decade now. Hanna wonders if she’s having an internal battle within herself because the brunette doesn’t say another word.

“Because my husband was killed,” Ali finishes for her, tone devoid of emotion and Hanna flinches, knows that the words are directed at her like a slap to the face and her heart cracks all over again, “and I’m not fit for a relationship. Not like _that_ , not anymore.”

“Ali, I—” Hanna retorts, tears stinging the back of her eyes at the thought of Rollins. Not out of sadness but more of a crushing guilt.

Ali cuts her off cleanly. “I’ve told you before, Hanna,” she says calmly as Emily glances at her for half a second, “its okay. I don’t blame you.”

Hanna wants to tell her that just because she made a mistake with one guy doesn’t mean that she’ll make the same one with Emily. Hanna wants to tell her that Emily is _nothing_ like Rollins and that she’ll never ever hurt her. Hanna wants to tell her that out of the five of them, Ali has been deprived of her happiness _too_ many times and that she probably deserves it the most.

But she catches the look in Emily’s face through the rearview mirror and decides to let it go.

“Okay,” she says, shaking her head and crossing her arms. Ali glances at her, expression full of pain, and Hanna’s frustration melts away.

She just hopes that those two know what they’re doing.

 

* * *

 

Right after Emily drops her off at Lucas’s loft, Hanna sheds off her dress, pulls on some comfortable clothes and crawls into the couch with _Mr. Robot_ playing in the flat screen TV. She has a lot on her mind: Aria’s unwavering support and gentle words, Spencer’s guarded expressions and the way she flinches whenever Hanna comes too close, Emily’s need to hastily hide her heart from her sleeve because she thinks she’ll get hurt, Alison’s undeniable belief that she doesn’t deserve someone as pure and as good as Emily.

(She wonders when life for them became _too_ complicated, strings of lies and half-truths and deep secrets tangling them in a web that they can’t get through.)

She watches the show with half interest, her mind going to places. She thinks of Jordan and how he must be dealing with a broken heart and a rejected engagement, she thinks of Caleb and how conflicted he must’ve felt and how alone he must feel now. She thinks of Alison, looking at Emily like she’s her world and of Emily, touching Alison like she fears she’s going to lose her any second.

It doesn’t even take her a full minute to decide. She pulls her phone out of her bag, searches her contacts and waits for the ring.

“Hanna?” Spencer says on the other end, when she finally picks up.

“We need to get those two together,” Hanna tells her, determined and certain that she’s not going to let Emily watch the girl she loves slip away from her fingertips.


	2. 3 Months After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that after this little fic, I'll be writing a separate one for Spencer and Hanna. Reading Ico123's Spanna fics have converted me into a shipper, apparently! There's a strong implied dosage of Spanna in this chapter, you've been warned.

**[Spencer; three months after the boy she loved ditched her to move back to Europe]**

Here’s the thing, Spencer isn’t stupid. Stupid isn’t a word anybody would ever dare to describe her with. She’s not as stupid as that one kid she saw face planting the ground the other day nor is she as stupid as the guy who picked his nose and accidentally hit his forehead against a lamp post. She’s not _stupid_ , okay? She knows love when she sees it and she’s positive that Emily and Alison are freaking in love with each other. It doesn’t take a genius to see that.

It’s been three months since Mary Drake was arrested, three months since they buried Elliot Rollins in the forest out of town, three months since Spencer turned away from Caleb and never looked back. Spencer still can’t think about him without feeling a wave of sadness and regret. She loved Caleb, with every piece of her heart and that was the problem really, because he loved Hanna with every piece of his heart too.

(She loves Hanna too, with every piece of her heart, but sometimes she can’t go through the day without feeling as if those pieces were eating at her soul. They’ve hit a rocky patch, which is normal in every friendship, but Spencer fears that this one of those patches they simply cannot fix.)

It’s been a few weeks since Hanna called her, asking to play Cupid with Emily and Alison. Spencer doesn’t entirely understand where the need is coming from, but Hanna sounded so sure, so determined, that she didn’t have the heart to ask why. Yes, Spencer _knows_ that Emily and Alison are tiptoeing around each other, afraid to play a game that will break their hearts if they gambled too much on circumstance.

(Spencer gambled on Caleb—she _lost_.)

After the whole thing with Caleb, Spencer feels as if she owes Hanna. That’s only a minor reason to why she’s heading over to Alison’s place on a Friday night after those said few weeks, having been so busy with this new intern job she’s taken in Philadelphia. Her other reasons are purely understandable—she remembers Ali coming over and telling her about Rollins, remembers the warmth in her eyes and the happiness in her smile. She’s seen Alison depressed and at her lowest (was even the cause of such a change in demeanor); she doesn’t want to see it again.

She knocks once on the door and hears hurried footsteps inside. Ali opens it, smile in place. It falters slightly at the sight of Spencer.

“Expecting another brunette?” Spencer jokes lightly.

“No, no,” Ali is quick to deny but Spencer sees right through her. Alison has had many expressions throughout the years but her face whenever Emily is mentioned has always stayed the same.

(It’s kind of funny, how they’ve spent years trying to unmask the enigma that was Alison DiLaurentis, only to have her nearly transparent under Emily’s influence half a decade later.)

“How’s your little deal going?” Spencer asks, stepping inside when Ali pulls the door wider and invites her in for some coffee.

“You mean, _let’s-pretend-that-we-don’t-have-feelings-for-each-other_ deal?” Alison asks dryly. She ushers Spencer into the kitchen, where she starts heating some water and pulling some mugs out of the cabinets.

Spencer watches her carefully. She can’t help it. She’s always been careful around Alison.

“Well,” the blonde continues, sighing loudly as she gestures uselessly at the space around her, “It’s going fine and terrible at the same time.”

“What do you mean?”

There’s a restlessness around Ali that reminds Spencer of when they were kids, when the blonde had been too eager and excited to start growing up, having already tasted what the world felt like and wanted _more_. And in this case, she _wants_ Emily. Badly. Probably more than she’s wanted anything else.

“She’s making it clear that she wants nothing to do with me,” Ali mumbles, almost in a broken whisper.

(Spencer is hit with an image of Hanna’s tear-soaked face when Caleb moved away, remembers the fact that the blonde didn’t contact her for a whole week after that.)

(She also remembers Hanna a month later, holding her tight and telling her she was sorry.)

“That’s not true,” she tells Alison, taking a step forward and placing a hesitant hand on the blonde’s shoulder; Alison looks at her, exhaustion plain in her features. “Emily _loves_ you,” Spencer continues, confident in her answer because it’s one of the many facts she’s always known in her bones—there are 7 billion people in this planet, the sun is a huge star and Emily Fields loves Alison DiLaurentis.

Ali’s bottom lip trembles, ever so slightly. “Hanna told me the same thing,” she mutters.

Spencer’s heart cracks at the name. She misses Hanna with an ache she thought she’d never feel before—it’s worse than when Caleb left. With Caleb, she felt like she lost a limb but with Hanna, she feels like half of her heart has been ripped off.

(They’re a long way from where they used to be.)

“Tell you what,” Spencer says, knowing that she owes Hanna this. Hanna wants Emily and Alison together and Spencer will move heaven and earth to make that happen, “I’ll try to knock some sense back into Em. It’s been a rough few months and you deserve at least one more chance.”

“I’ve already blown my chances,” Ali mutters and it’s pitiful, seeing her like this.

“Ali,” Spencer says sternly, “you told me that with Elliot, you thought that you’d finally be alright with showing him the worst parts of you.” Alison’s jaw locks at that, her blue eyes shining with tears and Spencer knows that she’s rubbing salt on a wound but she also knows that the other woman needs to hear the harsh truth. “Here’s the thing, Emily’s _already_ seen the worst parts of you and she’s still here. She’s been here for a long time.”

 

* * *

 

Emily is sitting near the window when Spencer steps inside The Brew. The other girl is pouring over countless books and notes, her laptop propped open in front of her with earbuds plugged in. Her leg is shaking and there are a few cups of coffee on top of the table next to her, which makes Spencer wonder if she’s not the only one in the group with a caffeine problem.

Knowing that this could possibly be a bad time, Spencer pushes her concerns aside and dives in.

“Hey,” she calls, waving a hand in front of Emily, who takes a while to notice that she’s there.

“Spencer, hi!” Emily says excitedly, tugging her earbuds out and carefully maneuvering through her notes to give the other girl a hug. “I’m so glad to see you! I hear work’s been rough on you.”

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about work, I might start ordering some coffee too,” Spencer mutters and Emily laughs good-naturedly. They both sit back down again, Emily trying to organize her things and Spencer pausing for half a second before helping her out too. They talk about the little things—about Hollis, Spencer’s new job, Aria’s book tour with Ezra, Hanna coaxing herself out of the shell in her own time. They don’t talk about Alison but the girl is underneath all of their topics, like she always has been.

Emily files away the last of her notes in an envelope before turning back to Spencer, raising an eyebrow. “So,” she says slowly, “what did you really come here for?”

Spencer rolls her eyes. “Do I always look like I have an ulterior motive?”

Emily doesn’t buy it. “Spencer, really?”

“Okay fine.” The brunette runs a shaky hand through her frazzled hair, takes a deep breath and says, “I seriously think you should _re_ -think your whole relationship with Ali.”

“There’s nothing between me and Alison,” Emily says, rolling her eyes.

(Spencer resists the urge to correct her with, “Alison and _I_.”)

“Look,” she stresses instead, leaning forward and reaching for Emily’s hand, “you have every right to be terrified about Ali and I’m not saying with a certainty that she won’t hurt you. Because the people we love the most will _always_ hurt us.”

(Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t think of Caleb, whom she loved so deeply, or of Toby, who was her first real love. Instead, she thinks of Hanna, thinks of the emptiness in her chest at the thought of imagining a life without her and knows that she has to _fix_ things.)

(The same way she knows she has to push Emily and Alison to fix things with each other.)

Spencer detects a little bit of apprehension and fear in Emily’s features, understands it perfectly well and surges ahead, “Look, I don’t know the full story but I do _know_ this: she loves you. She’s loved you the most, even when we were still kids. In fact, I think we were all a little bit jealous about how much she paid attention to you.” She pauses, allowing for the words to sink in; Emily avoids her gaze like the plague. “Please, Em,” Spencer murmurs, “you’re both denying something that could be really good.”

“Is that what you thought,” Emily begins, finally meeting her gaze. Her tone isn’t full of malice but downright curiosity, “when you decided to go after Caleb?”

Spencer’s throat tightens. “Yes,” she confesses, “but that’s beside the point. I—God, I _tried_ with Caleb and it didn’t work out. But our situations aren’t the same. Caleb didn’t love me the way Alison _loves_ you.”

The truth feels like needles in her throat but she’s pleased to find it easy to say. Caleb didn’t love her as much as she loved him and it’s nice enough to know that at least, three months later, she’s starting to make some progress. She just wishes she can do the same thing with Hanna, who hasn’t called or contacted her for a while now.

(She decides that after talking with Emily, she’ll go to Hanna’s. She misses the girl with an ache that almost seems unbearable.)

Emily studies her with an unreadable expression. “Did Hanna put you up to this?” she finally asks, as if she’s read her mind.

Spencer blinks in surprise. She doesn’t answer fast enough because Emily pulls her hand away and shakes her head, looking almost pained. “Hanna didn’t put me up with _anything_!” Spencer almost screeches, “This is all me okay? I care about you and I want you to be happy. And if that means being with Alison then I have no right to just sit here and watch you torture yourself.”

“I’m not torturing myself!” Emily defends.

“You’re throwing yourself into school and not taking a chance,” Spencer points out, gesturing at the laptop and the cluttered notes. “That sounds like torture to me.”

“I lost my chance the _second_ she married him, Spence,” Emily snaps, her frustration coming to a boiling point and Spencer shuts her mouth, shocked to hear such self-loathing in the other brunette’s tone, “I lost my chance when I left Rosewood five years ago. I lost my chance when I turned my back on her and put her in jail, for Christ’s sake. I don’t deserve another chance with her anymore because I’m just going to break her heart all over again.”

Spencer falls silent. Emily sighs, runs her hand through her hair and looks broken.

“ _Will_ you?” Spencer asks quietly.

“What?”

“Will you break her heart?”

Emily looks as if her insides have been twisted into knots. “I don’t know.”

(This conversation makes Spencer think of what she did to Hanna, of the fact that even though it was like rubbing salt into a very fresh wound, she still went after Caleb. There’s always been a girls’ rule against that and she broke it, alongside Hanna’s heart.)

(She still can’t forgive herself for it.)

“I’m a mess, okay?” Emily says suddenly, her voice cracking, “Ali—she had the best life here. She was with her sister and her husband. She knew what she wanted and she was _stable_. Ever since Dad—” she stops, breathes for a long time and continues, “I’ve been a mess. I’ve been a mess for such a long time and I _can’t_ be with her, no matter how badly I want to.”

(Spencer wants to point out that they’ve all been a mess at one point or another but doesn’t say it.)

“Think about it then,” she says instead after a short silence. (It’s the safest option: pressuring Emily more about it might lead to drastic results and she doesn’t think she can bear to lose Emily as a friend too.)

She gets up and leaves, glancing back at Emily when she’s at the door. She finds the other brunette pulling a ring out of her pocket (Spencer briefly remembers Ali asking Emily to keep it, because her marriage had meant nothing after all) and staring at the diamond with a deep, thoughtful look.

Spencer knows that the other girl’s got some thinking to do so she heads over to Hanna’s.

 

* * *

 

To say that Hanna is surprised to find Spencer at her front door is an understatement. The blonde is, in fact, so shocked that she nearly stumbles back over an umbrella stand. It must be jarring, to finally be alone with the one person who broke your heart _and_ your trust. Spencer is slightly ( _very_ slightly) amused to realize that she and Hanna are almost acting like a broken-up couple, when at the end of the day, it’s the two of them who’ve been broken up with by their respective lovers.

“Spence!” Hanna says, voice rising a pitch higher, “I—I, uhm, I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“It was an impulse decision,” Spencer tells her, crossing her arms, “I, actually, uh, wanted to talk to you.”

Something flashes across the blonde’s face, a moment of uncertainty made clear in her expression. (Spencer’s heart cracks a little bit more at that, recalling a time where Hanna would’ve never hesitated to have a conversation with her.)

“No good _ever_ comes from those words,” Hanna lightly mumbles, taking a step back and opening the door a bit wider. Spencer takes off her coat, hangs it on the rack and fully walks inside, glancing around the space before letting her eyes fall back on her best friend.

Hanna is wearing a loose shirt with some sweatpants, her blonde hair tied carelessly into a bun behind her head. She looks tired and stressed but still pretty as ever. Spencer finds her heart racing at the thought and brushes it aside as jitters on finally having a heart-to-heart with the one person she hasn’t been able to look in the eye ever since Caleb walked out on both of them.

“So, how are Emily and Alison?” Hanna asks, rubbing the back of her neck as she takes a seat on her work table, where papers about her whole ordeal with Lucas are scattered around.

“Stubborn as ever,” Spencer mutters, taking a seat next to her.

“In what way?”

“Ali thinks that she doesn’t deserve another chance because she thinks Emily wants nothing to do with her and Em thinks that she’s going to break Ali’s heart if they’re together.”

Hanna rolls her eyes, mutters “ _what a bunch of fucking idiots_ ” under her breath and grows quiet.

“Have you talked to either of them?” Spencer surges on ahead because quiet is never a good sign with Hanna.

“Of course,” the other girl replies, barely glancing at her, “I told them both to get a grip, which was a bad idea, because Emily’s using school as an excuse _not_ to see Ali anymore.”

“Oh.” No wonder Alison had been so disappointed to see Spencer at her front door. “Well, that is unfortunate.”

“It’s so _stupid_ ,” Hanna says frustratingly, wringing her hands, “They’re so in love with each other it’s actually sickening. I mean, Emily’s spent _years_ caring for this girl, doing anything for her, being there for her and now that she actually has a chance to make things right, she doesn’t take it. And Ali made a mistake with—with Roll—with her ex douchebag of a husband.” Hanna’s eyes are shiny and Spencer bites her lower lip, feels sorry about the whole thing and wants nothing more than to reach forward and embrace the girl.

(But she doesn’t. She doesn’t think Hanna would appreciate the gesture.)

“They’re both afraid, it’s understandable,” Spencer murmurs.

“No, it’s not, Spence,” Hanna fiercely says, looking at her with a fire in her eyes, “When you love someone, you don’t use fear as an excuse not to be with them.”

(Spencer’s heart stutters at that because she _loves_ Hanna but she’s afraid that she’s made too many mistakes that her love won’t mean shit anymore.)

(Truth be told, it will take her a long, long time to understand her love for Hanna.)

“It’s killing me that they think they’re not good for each other,” Hanna says.

“They’ll figure it out, Han,” Spencer tells her.

“They better.”

It’s quiet again. Spencer knows that Hanna doesn’t _hate_ her (well, she hopes she doesn’t) but it’s still not easy, sitting here and trying to come up with enough words in the vocabulary to tell her that she’s sorry, so, _so_ sorry for everything that’s happened.

“I know why you’re here,” Hanna says suddenly, looking at her with a careful expression, but Spencer doesn’t say anything, “and I’m here to tell you not to say it. I _know_. You’re sorry. You didn’t mean for things to end up like this. I _get_ it, Spence. We don’t have to complicate things.”

“Hanna, you haven’t been able to look me in the eye for months,” Spencer  points out, trying hard to keep the hurt out of her voice.

(She doesn’t succeed.)

“I—I needed time, okay?”

“I’ve given you time,” Spencer harshly mutters, feeling her frustration eating her inside out, “and guess, what, time’s up. Please, just hear me out.”

When Caleb told her that he was leaving a week after Mary Drake’s arrest, Spencer thought it was for the best. Seeing him all the time would’ve given her hope about their entire relationship and she just knew that she couldn’t parade around town, holding his hand and feeling happy when Hanna had broken off her engagement with Jordan because she felt too guilty.

(Spencer realized, half a month later, that it wouldn’t have happened anyway. Caleb has been holding onto Hanna for the past five years. A few weeks with Spencer wouldn’t have changed anything.)

There’s stubbornness in Hanna’s jaw that is so like her fifteen-year-old self that makes Spencer want to cry. She misses the way things were between them—misses Hanna’s blunt remarks, her quiet laugh when she’s embarrassed, the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at food or Caleb. Spencer misses her so much, even though she’s literally inches away from her, and comes to the conclusion that there’s no greater pain than feeling a thousand miles away from someone who’s sitting next to you.

“Okay,” Hanna finally says, looking at her.

“I’m sorry.” The words are out before Spencer can stop them. So much for the little speech she already has formulated in her head, where she would’ve pointed out the con’s of their friendship falling apart. She decides that Hanna doesn’t need to hear Smart Spencer trying to convince her how sorry she is so she settles for what matters the most—what she’s been dying to say ever since Hanna got kidnapped, “I hurt you in the worst way possible and when you told me that you were over Caleb, I knew that you were lying but I couldn’t bring myself to face the truth—that, that I had a chance and you weren’t okay with it.”

Hanna’s jaw tightens even more, if that’s possible. Spencer knows that she’s dredging into dangerous territory but keeps moving on ahead.

“You loved— _love_ —him.” Spencer’s heart feels heavy. “And I took him away from you. I’m sorry for that. You have no idea how much I regret it. And all the things that have happened since then—Caleb leaving, you breaking off your engagement with Jordan for him—”

“I didn’t,” Hanna cuts her off, shaking her head, “I didn’t do it for him.”

(Spencer’s heart just keeps stuttering.)

“I did it for me,” Hanna clarifies, looking away.

“Oh.”

Hanna closes her eyes and shakes her head once more. “I’d rather lose him than you,” she admits flippantly.

That does it. Spencer surges forward and flings her arms around the blonde. Hanna is quick to react, holding her back just as tightly and they stay intertwined like that for a long, long time, the relief evident in the way they don’t let go.

 

* * *

 

“You were right,” Emily says the minute Spencer opens the door. It’s been two weeks after their talk.

“Uh, hello to you too,” Spencer mutters, shutting the door once Emily barges her way inside. “And I said a lot of things to a lot of people for the past few days but I’m assuming I’m right about you and Alison?”

“That,” Emily agrees, “and the latest episode to Game of Thrones.”

Spencer grins lopsidedly as she takes a seat next to Emily on the couch. The other girl’s leg is shaking again, which either means she’s nervous or high on caffeine. By the bags under her eyes, it seems to be because of both.

“What made you realize that?” Spencer asks gently.

“I did what you told me to,” Emily answered, looking at her with a hint of a childlike wonder in her eyes, “I reevaluated everything I had with Alison and I talked to Hanna and Aria about it. They both agreed that going after what I want is the right thing to do at this moment.”

A smile touches lightly around the corners of Spencer’s mouth. “Took you a while to get there, huh?”

Emily wrings her hands and shakes her head, looking bemused. “To be honest, when we all left for college five years ago, I never thought I’d get another chance with her. But I have and I don’t want to waste another second of it.”

Relief floods through Spencer’s veins. Thank _God_. “That’s good to hear,” she says enthusiastically, “What are you planning?”

Emily shakes her head, mysterious smile in place. “I already told Hanna the details and you and Ali are neighbors. I doubt that you’d keep your mouth shut about my plans.”

Spencer doesn’t mind being left out of the planning. She’s just really happy that she and Hanna are on good terms again and that Emily’s on her way to finally getting the woman she loves. Mentally noting that she should speak to Aria soon (that girl’s been so busy Spencer has hardly talked to her for a while now), Spencer reaches forward and clasps Emily’s hand.

Emily brings her palm up and intertwines their fingers.

“I’m really happy for you,” Spencer tells her, quietly and genuinely.

Silence fills the room.

“Spence.” Emily bites her lower lip and sighs. “I know that I haven’t been fulfilling my best friend duties, seeing as I’ve been caught up with college and… _Ali_. But, I wanted to know. How are you and Hanna?”

(Before, Hanna’s name made her feel like she was falling through the highest building ever built. Now Hanna’s name just brings a reinforced sense of _home_.)

“We’re okay now,” Spencer answers, smiling broadly, “You helped me out with that, I suppose.”

Emily makes her confused face. “What did I do?” she asks.

“Our conversation at The Brew made me realize a lot of things,” Spencer shares, “and one of those things is that I cannot bear to live my life without Hanna in it.”

Emily matches her dopey grin. “That’s good to hear,” she echoes and Spencer detects a hint of knowing in the brunette’s tone but decides not to dwell upon it.

(She will realize, a little while later, that Emily knows more than she lets on.)

 


	3. 4 Months After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of warning before you start: there's a bit of Ezria in the beginning but I focused more on the girls' friendship in this chapter! And you might've noticed that I've added another chapter. That will be the epilogue, where I try to wrap things up. Hope you enjoy and happy reading!

 

 **[Aria; four months after she slept with her former English teacher _again_ ]**

First of all, Aria isn’t as busy as she looks. Sure, she has been flying back and forth from Boston to Philly for the past couple of months but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t taken the time to catch up with her friends’ lives. She’s not busy enough to the point where all that matters to her is her career, to the point where she doesn’t have an honest clue about Emily and Alison. Just because she’s revising and editing doesn’t mean she’s stupid nor blind to the fact that those two want to be together but are afraid to do so.

Ever since Jill announced the book deal between her and Ezra, Aria has felt as if she’s been on top of the world recently. She’s been all over the place, meeting new people, receiving critique (from a not so happy Liam), kissing Ezra from behind the screens and working her way up the ladder to being one of _those_ writers, writers she’s looked up to ever since she was a little girl.

(She feels bad, however, seeing as she’s the only one who’s really happy. Hanna’s been locked up in her loft all day, Spencer’s still recovering from her break-up with Caleb and Emily’s so determined to go after Ali and not to go after her that she’s just a confused mess.)

Emily and Alison—Aria always had a gut feeling whenever she saw the two of them together. Call it fate or writer’s intuition, she just knows that they are soulmates. Emily has always seen the best in Ali, even when the other girl couldn’t see it herself.  (Aria’s secretly been rooting for them ever since she found out Alison was alive, Emily’s _I loved her as more than a friend_ a year prior making its way back to Aria’s brain.)

Now that her book is in the middle of publishing, Aria’s gotten a lot more time to herself. She flies back to Philly on a sunny day and drives immediately home to Rosewood. (It’s funny; Aria hasn’t thought of Rosewood as _home_ for a really long time.) The weather makes her want to get some coffee so she contacts the first person she thinks of and invites her out.

Ali sounds surprised but very pleased, accepting the invitation after a moment’s pause. 

They meet up at The Brew an hour later, Alison wearing a pink floral dress with a peach cardigan on and Aria sporting a purple tank top with a matching blue pencil skirt. They find a seat near the back, so they can talk in silence, and Aria notes the happiness in the blonde’s blue eyes, the bright flush in her cheeks and the shyness with a bit of mystery tinged in her wide smile.

“Has Emily asked you out yet?” Aria asks, sipping her cappuccino.

Ali doesn’t even bother hiding it. “Is it that obvious?” she murmurs, sounding very cheeky.

“Kind of,” Aria admits.

(Maybe it’s the writer in her but Aria wants to pull out her pen and write a few paragraphs about the way Ali’s smiling at the ground. If she has to paint a picture of someone young and in love with her words, this would be it.)

“Are you happy?” Aria asks because it seems to be the only question that matters nowadays.

Ali tilts her head, ponders the question. “I thought I knew what happiness felt like,” she says thoughtfully and Aria knows that she’s thinking of her mother, of Charlotte and of Rollins, “but with Emily, it’s not _just_ feeling happy but it’s also feeling like _home_ and I’ve wanted that for such a long time.”

Aria nods, understanding the sentiment perfectly. With the whole Uber A thing going on, she’d been trying to find her place in this world, thinking that it was with her family, her friends or with Ezra even. She’s only recently discovered that her place in this world is in the words she writes down, the words she cannot say to anybody else out loud. Her words are her legacy, her _real_ home.

(It’s nice, to be known as someone _other_ than the girl who got kidnapped and held in the Dollhouse.)

“What about you?” Alison asks her, genuinely curious, “How are things?”

“Everything’s good,” Aria answers, “My book is being published, if you want an update.”

“I want a hardbound with your signature at the front,” Ali remarks, grinning good-naturedly. Aria raises an eyebrow. “Your signature only. I don’t want anything of Ezra’s,” the blonde later adds.

Aria doesn’t say anything, just tilts her head to the side and smiles into her drink. Ali notices (she notices everything—that’s what made her Alison DiLaurentis in the first place) and immediately pounces upon it.

“What’s going on with you and Ezra, exactly?” she asks, demands it even.

Aria considers lying. She’s lied so often now that it’s almost her first instinct. (Sometimes, on nights when she can’t sleep, she wonders if this is how Alison felt when she was just sixteen—so young but so full of secrets that almost a decade later, she’s still shedding them.) But she looks at Alison’s wide open eyes, marvels at how much she’s changed and decides to say the truth that’s been bugging her for a while now.

“I broke up with Ezra,” she tells her, sipping her coffee casually, as if she’s just told Ali about some long forgotten story in Iceland rather than the dissolve of her relationship.

Ali’s eyes widen but other than that, she doesn’t look surprised. Aria figures that much. The blonde did briefly date Ezra for some time, probably understands her sentiment more than she lets on. (A few years ago, she would’ve hated that fact but now, she’s glad for it. It means she’s not alone.)

“I always knew you’d go big,” Alison murmurs, looking down at her drink and smiling tightly, the same way she used to when they were kids. “Bigger than me, in fact. I had no doubt about it. You had the greatest potential.” She pauses, possibly for dramatic flair. She was always good at that. “Being tied down because of some boy isn’t how I imagined your life would turn out,” she adds.

Alison’s words ring true. For the past few months, Ezra held onto her with a vicelike grip, almost as if he didn’t want to lose her the way he lost Nicole. Aria didn’t want to stay in Rosewood with him, even after he begged so many times. These are her prime years—she told him she wanted to spread her wings and go around the world and that was the end of that.

(Sixteen-year-old Aria would’ve thrown away everything for Ezra but twenty-four-year-old Aria knows better than to give up her all for him.)

“Thank you,” Aria says sincerely, “I’ve been keeping that secret for a while now. I didn’t think the rest of the girls would understand.”

Alison smiles. “I’ve spent the five years being tied down by Rollins,” she states and there isn’t a hint of remorse or pain her voice (Aria’s entire body exhales with relief), “and it’s a life not meant for you. I’m glad you told me, though. I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me that much.”

(A crack appears in Aria’s heart. She hasn’t forgotten how much pain she’s caused Ali for the past few years and apparently, the girl hasn’t too.)

(She wishes she could turn back time, back to before Ali disappeared in that barn, back when it was just the five of them, laughing in the cafeteria and thinking that they had the whole world in the palm of their hands—those had been Aria’s best years.)

“Can I tell you another secret, then?” Aria asks cheekily, leaning forward and putting away her drink.

Ali’s eyes sparkle. Aria detects a hint of the same Alison DiLaurentis who lived and breathed secrets— _secrets are what keeps us close_ , she had said.

“I used to be so afraid of you,” Aria whispers, almost like they’re kids swapping gossip behind open lockers and Alison’s smile widens, “There was one time, we were wearing the same shirt. I told the school nurse I was feeling sick just so I could go home and change. I didn’t want to face your wrath and that was probably the only time I skipped school—before—before you left.”

Recognition sparks in Alison’s eyes. “I missed you that day,” she whispers in return and Aria tilts her head to the side, not realizing that Ali had noticed her absence back then.

“You did?” the smaller girl asks, dubious.

“Yeah,” Ali confirms, her smile widening, “I wanted to tell you about this old French film I watched the night before. Figured you and I would have a lot to talk about.”

When they were kids, Ali was her best friend. She often made Aria feel special (regardless of the moments where the blonde made her feel the exact opposite) and it was during those days that Aria had treasured their friendship the most. Fifteen-year-old Alison _always_ made an effort. She watched old films with Aria, talked about Noel Kahn to Aria, bought ice cream and take-out pizza for Aria. When they were kids, she made Aria feel like they were both on top of the world.

“You were my best friend,” Aria says out loud, because this moment—this moment, right _here_ , right _now_ —they’re both on top of the world.

Alison flinches at the past tense and Aria shakes her head, reaches forward and clutches her hand tightly.

“You still are,” she whispers and pulls the other girl in for a hug.

(Alison embraces her like she’s coming home for the first time.)

 

* * *

 

When Emily and Alison go out on their first formal date, Spencer invites Hanna and Aria over at her place to wait for them to return. Aria, bringing an overnight bag, arrives exactly on time and Hanna, bringing nothing because she and Spencer nearly have the same size of clothing, arrives twenty minutes later.

“At long last,” Hanna says, after she’s rummaged around Peter Hastings’ hidden wine storage and poured everybody a drink, “Our girl Emily finally had the guts to ask Ali out.”

“Where did she take her, exactly?” Spencer asks, drinking her glass in one go.

Hanna narrows her eyes, smiles cheekily. “Not telling you,” she says, “I want Ali to gush about how amazing it all was and for Emily to credit me on such genius.”

Aria sips her wine, perches on the stool closest to her and watches as Spencer and Hanna exchange light banter back and forth. They seem to have passed their rough patch, which Aria is grateful for. She doesn’t want to lose any of her best friends.

“They seem really happy,” she says after Spencer rolls her eyes at Hanna’s comment about Emily and Alison not coming home and doing it in the backseat of Em’s car.

“Of course,” Spencer agrees, “They’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“They deserve it,” Hanna mutters, sliding into the seat next to Aria and sighing contently, “I mean—at least two or three of us deserve to be happy.”

(Spencer stiffens at that, a movement that immediately catches Aria’s eye.)

“How are things then?” Aria asks Hanna, keeping close attention to Spencer, who has put down her glass in order to stare at the countertop. “How’s your whole business thing with Lucas? Doing well, I hope?”

Hanna waves that off. “Everything’s fine,” she smoothly says and for once, Aria can’t tell if she’s lying or not. Hanna always has a tell, but right now, she seems to be telling the truth. “I’m building my own business, I’ve ditched the two boys who made my life confusing as hell and I have all of my best friends back. Everything’s better now, actually.”

Aria smiles, reaches forward and puts her hand on Hanna’s arm. The blonde glances at her, meets her gaze and returns the gesture. (Aria notices Spencer watching the exchange with a hard expression.)

“Cheers to us then,” the smaller girl states, raising her glass. The other two follow and Hanna looks over at Spencer to give her a gentle smile. They clink their glasses and Aria adds, “To an –A free future.”

 

* * *

 

They spend the first half of the night talking about Emily and Alison, seeing as they are the reason for such a celebration. Aria, sitting across from Spencer and Hanna, can feel her body buzzing with the alcohol. It feels nice, however, to just relax and talk about her best friends’ love lives.

“Remember the time,” Hanna begins, a little slur to her voice, “Ali nearly snapped at Ben for kissing Emily at Noel’s party? God, I never saw her so _furious_ before. I always thought it was because she wanted Ben for herself, which was weird—now that I think about it—because Emily ended up dating him.”

“Your gaydar is so off,” Spencer remarks, shaking her head.

“Hey, it’s not like any of us knew,” Hanna mumbles defensively.

Aria grins at her glass. “Mona knew,” she points out.

“Mona knows everything,” Spencer and Hanna say at the same time and they all start to giggle uncontrollably.

(They feel like kids again—Aria wants to freeze this moment in time, put it in a picture frame and stare at it forever.)

“Before Ali disappeared, I thought it was just a harmless little girl crush,” Aria admits once her giggles have faded, her head spinning in a good way as she shifts in her seat, “Emily was always shy around people but she was especially shy with Ali. I should’ve seen it sooner.”

“It’s not like Emily was parading around school with a huge sign that read _Hey! I love Alison D_ ,” Hanna says flippantly.

“Your gaydars are _so_ off,” Spencer mutters, hiccupping.

“Hey!” Hanna perks up, slapping her hand repeatedly against her knee. “Didn’t they sleep with each other a while back?” She looks hilarious—tousled blonde hair, bright red cheeks and dopey grin in place. (Aria chuckles at the sight but notices Spencer staring at the blonde with the softest expression written all over her face.)

“You mean, Em and Ali?” the other brunette asks and Aria tears her gaze long enough to see Hanna nodding furiously. “When? Right after Rollins?”

For once, Hanna doesn’t pause at the name. Instead, she shakes her head and says, “ _No_. Like after Ali came back. Uhm, let’s see—I think it was before Toby’s house got blown up?”

“Oh.” Spencer and Aria exchange a look, trying to remember. Emily and Alison _had_ been sitting next to each other that night, a little too close for comfort, given the circumstances.

“You told me I was drunk!” Hanna accuses Spencer, who responds with, “ _You were_!”

Aria hears a car parking in the distance. She stands up immediately (which proves to be a bad idea) and lurches to the side, the floor spinning in front of her. “Sshh,” she tells the other two girls, gesturing wildly at the door, “I think they’re here.”

Hanna puts down the wine bottle and stands as well. Spencer follows and the three of them peer through the front door of Spencer’s house and catch sight of Emily and Alison getting out of the car, their voices muffled but their laughter audible. Aria has to squint (because her head is spinning _so_ badly) but she thinks she sees Ali reaching for Emily’s hand as they go up to the front porch.

“Ohhh,” Hanna says in a hushed tone, her breath smelling of alcohol, “They’re going to do it.”

“No kidding,” Spencer mutters, stepping back.

Aria lingers by the doorway, completely drunk and smiling to herself. She’s happy about how things have turned out, how easily the pieces have fallen in place and how it seems like fate that they’re all still friends.  (Maybe one day, when she’s built a name for herself, she’ll write a story about how five people found their way back to each other.)

“I’m beat,” Hanna announces, collapsing on the couch. She reaches for the wine bottle but Spencer quickly snatches it away.

“Nuh-uh,” Spencer tells her, sounding exactly like her disapproving mother.

Hanna pouts. “ _Fineee_ ,” she whines, rolling over her back and placing an arm over her eyes, “Wake me up for breakfast. See you guys in the morning. Tell Emily to take the morning-after pill.” Within seconds, she falls asleep and Spencer spends several seconds rooted in her spot, staring at the sleeping blonde.

Aria breaks the brunette out of her reverie by gently taking the wine bottle out of her fingertips. Spencer startles, not realizing she’s been caught and Aria offers her a smile as she gestures to the backdoor.

“Come on,” she says, squeezing the other girl’s shoulder, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Spencer nods, not bothering to ask why. Before she follows Aria out the backdoor, she pulls a spare blanket from the cabinet and places it over Hanna. From where she’s standing near the exit, Aria spots Spencer curling her hand into a shaking fist after tucking a strand of hair behind the blonde’s ear.

(Aria muses about how the past few months have been filled with regrets and guilt and is glad for the fact that everybody finally seems to be discovering what they’ve wanted all along.)

“I’m envious of Emily and Ali’s relationship,” Spencer tells her when they’re out of the house, taking a short walk across the backyard (where Ali’s mom was buried but Aria likes to not think about that) and settling against the grass, where they do nothing but stare at the stars above them.

Aria passes her the wine bottle wordlessly.

“Or what you and Ezra have,” Spencer adds, sighing as she takes a long swig.

“I broke up with Ezra a month ago,” Aria whispers, like she’s telling Spencer the secret she and Ali shared hours ago.

Spencer pauses, slowly putting down the bottle and looking at her with a startled expression. Aria hugs her knees, laughs without humor and says, “I didn’t want him holding me back.”

There is silence, the kind of silence where Aria can just close her eyes and pretend that she’s alone. But she’s not. Spencer is sitting next to her, drunk and sad. Whenever Spencer’s under the influence, she either loses control or spends hours lying still. There’s no in between.

“I liked you better without him,” Spencer admits before the silence becomes too heavy. Her words are slurred and she looks tired and stressed but Aria knows that it’s the truth.

(Aria’s smile widens. She likes herself better without him too.)

“You were saying?” she prompts, recalling their last conversation before Ezra.

Spencer shakes her head, looks pained for half a second before taking another swing at the wine. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, “just me being lonely and needy as fuck.”

“Come on.” Aria bumps her shoulder against Spencer, who nearly stumbles to the side. They laugh and Aria reaches forward and wraps an arm around the taller girl’s shoulder. It doesn’t take much convincing because Spencer leans into her touch and takes a shuddering breath.

“I want someone who’ll think of me first thing in the morning and the last thing at night,” she whispers, sounding very vulnerable and Aria rubs her arm comfortingly, “and I’m really— _God_ , this is so stupid—but I’m really afraid that I won’t be able to have what Emily and Alison have. Someone who knows me inside out and chooses to stay anyway.”

Aria looks up the stars. “What about Hanna, then?” she asks, after a moment’s pause.

Spencer stiffens. She says nothing but it’s already obvious enough. All those looks, the longing stares, the thoughtful gestures—it makes sense. Aria doesn’t push the subject and Spencer doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of the night. They sit there in complete darkness, a bottle of wine between them, just breathing and existing and watching the stars above them. Finally, when her fingers start to get too cold, Aria pulls them back inside the house.

(Aria and Spencer share the other couch because none of them feel like waking up alone the next day.)

 

* * *

 

When Aria wakes up the morning after, Spencer is already gone. Hanna is still asleep from across her, having tossed and turned the night before since the blanket has fallen to the floor. Aria sits up and bites back a groan when her head starts pounding. She shouldn’t have drunk so much last night.

“Morning.” Aria looks up, surprised to see Emily standing above her with coffee in her hand. The brunette is practically blooming, her smile so bright it matches a sunny day.

“Hi,” the smaller girl mumbles, “what are you doing here?”

Emily gestures to the front door. “Saw your car last night, figured that you guys were having a sleepover without us,” she says, pretending to sound hurt.

Aria snorts, taking the coffee gratefully. “You were having a sleepover on your own with a special someone.” After the first sip, she starts to feel a little bit better so she scoots aside to make more room for Emily, who graciously sits down next to her. “How was it, then?” Aria asks.

“Perfect,” Emily answers, smiling broadly. She looks younger, like her fifteen-year-old self.

(It jars Aria when she realizes how it’s been such a long time since she’s last seen Emily smiling as broadly as this.)

“Where’s Ali?” she asks, drinking her coffee and sighing in satisfaction.

“Here.” The blonde in question appears out of nowhere, holding a plate full of pancakes with Spencer following from behind. Alison puts the plate on the coffee table while Spencer distributes the utensils.

“It kind of stings that you guys didn’t invite us over last night,” Ali casually remarks.

“You were kind of busy,” Spencer points out slyly as she shakes Hanna awake. Aria watches the interaction just as she’s finishing off her coffee. It always takes a long time for Hanna to fully rise in order to face the day, so the feat is kind of amusing to watch. Emily starts devouring her pancakes, which makes Alison smile—like a proud wife, in fact.

After putting aside her coffee, Aria reaches for her plate of pancakes and eats them, her mouthwatering even more once they’re in her mouth. She has never known Alison to be such a great cook.

“Okay, okay, I’m up,” Hanna mutters, rising up to a sitting position and fixing her hair. She looks like crap, to say the least.  

“Finally,” Emily says, gesturing at their breakfast, “We know you wouldn’t want to miss pancakes.”

They all grab plates and Aria is about to finish her last piece when Hanna is finally sober enough to start asking questions about last night. Emily and Alison are secretive as ever but they share looks and mysterious smiles, like they’re sharing a secret.

(Aria wonders when she’ll ever stop thinking of metaphors such as _secrets_ and _lies_ , wonders if her life will fully be rid of them once and for all.)

(She thinks it’ll be unlikely.)

Spencer is sitting next to Hanna on the couch. She catches Aria’s eye, shakes her head and mouths, _Later_.

“So,” Aria begins, putting down her plate, “I think Em and Ali owe us a thank you.” Spencer and Hanna, with mouths full of food, both nod vigorously.

Alison rolls her eyes as she leans heavily on Emily, who takes her hand and intertwines their fingers together. “Thank you so much, guys,” the blonde tells them earnestly, “for pushing us together.”

“And for knocking some sense into our heads,” Emily adds.

“We wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you,” Ali says, kissing her girlfriend’s crown.

“Oh God, they’re finishing each other’s sentences,” Hanna bluntly comments, shaking her head and pretending to look sick, “Fucking married, I tell you.”

They all laugh and Spencer puts a hand on Hanna’s shoulder, looks at Emily and Ali both in the eye and says, “We’re just glad you’re happy.”

Aria smiles to herself. They haven’t been the happiest for a long, long time.

(Now is a good time to start.)

 


	4. 5 Months After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys don't know Uno then you seriously need a life. Kidding! Anyway, this is the last chapter for the series. It's a lot messy, in my opinion, because my thoughts were all over the place. However, I have written what I wanted to write and I'm proud of it. A Spanna story will follow shortly, maybe after a few days, I hope? Keep your eyes peeled for that! 
> 
> Enjoy!

**[The girls; five months after Alison jumped straight into Emily’s arms]**

 

* * *

 

 

**[Hanna]**

Hanna puts down her Wild Draw Four card, grinning triumphantly when Aria makes an outraged noise at the sight of it. Emily starts laughing as Hanna picks red for the next color of the draw, which is exactly the color that Aria clearly lacks from her hand. (Hanna knows, because the smaller doesn’t exactly know how to hide her cards very well.)

“Remind me never to play Uno with the likes of Hanna around,” Aria mutters darkly as she loses a turn and plucks four cards. She now has a total of ten cards in her hand, while Emily has three and Hanna has two.

“You need practice,” Hanna chastises. She loves playing Uno with her friends, lives for the way she can destroy them with the right amount of cards.

“And a better technique.” Emily reaches out and straightens Aria’s hand, since Hanna can clearly see the colors from where she’s sitting. “Dude, don’t let her see it.”

“That’s what he said,” Hanna says under her breath. They all put down their respective cards, passing a turn.

It’s just the three of them this time. Spencer and Alison are in Philly as of the moment, hanging out which sort of sucks because the only person who _might_ have a chance of beating Hanna is Spencer and Hanna has always liked a challenge.

Emily drops a red 9. Aria glances mournfully at her deck and puts down a green 9 as well. Hanna looks down at the cards in her hand, grins when she sees that she has a green card (she hasn’t really mastered the art of a poker face) and is about to draw it out when Emily starts yelling, “ _Uno! Uno! Uno!_ ”

Fuck. She shouldn’t have smiled. Emily is clearly onto her. Aria, still adjusting with the rules of the game, curiously stares at the two of them. Hanna’s hand has stilled—technically, Emily hasn’t gotten to her yet since she hasn’t placed in her card. But still, it’s going to be difficult to put it in when Emily’s mouth is still forming the word _uno_.

“What happens to the loser of the game?” Hanna asks in a rush.

“They have to take the winner out for a movie,” Emily answers just as quickly, “ _Uno. Uno. Uno_.”

“I’m confused,” Aria butts in, having difficulty in balancing all of her cards.

“Come on, Fields!” Hanna taunts, “Think you can best me in Uno?”

“I can best you at anything!” Emily retorts confidently. (Hanna has to smile at that—that girl has grown from the awkward, lanky closeted girl to the fierce woman sitting in front of her right now.)

Hanna hasn’t moved her hand and Emily’s staring at her with a ferocity in her gaze that would’ve sent both Mona and Charlotte running if they ever saw it. Aria sighs, mutters something that sounds like “ _why did I even agree to this”_ and starts arranging her cards. Meanwhile, Hanna and Emily are still locked in a stare-down. If Hanna can just distract Emily—even for a _second_ —then the game will be hers.

Just as Hanna’s about to put down her card (praying that she can say _Uno_ faster than Emily), Alison suddenly pops into the room from behind the brunette. Hanna perks up at the sight of her and gestures for her to come inside. (Some part of her waits for Spencer to come around too but to her disappointment, the girl doesn’t show.) Emily, possibly confused with such a facial change, frowns but doesn’t turn around.

“Your girlfriend’s here, you idiot,” Hanna tells her, reaching for her card again.

“Like I’m falling for that,” Emily retorts.

Both Aria and Hanna snort. Ali tilts her head to the side as she surveys the tense atmosphere in the room. She hasn’t said a word yet but her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

(Hanna enjoys seeing that look in her eyes, rather than dreads it.)

“Seriously, Em,” Aria says, nodding at Ali, who quietly tiptoes behind her girlfriend.

“Nope, not falling for that.”

“Oh my God.” Aria starts laughing hysterically, putting down her cards for the world to see. Hanna takes a quick look at it, comes up with a plan for the next draw and looks back at Emily again.

Emily’s jaw is stubbornly set and Ali’s still wearing a mischievous and amused expression. Now it seriously makes Hanna wish that Spencer were here—they’d both have a laugh at how serious Emily is being at this game.

“I don’t think your girlfriend will be happy about you ignoring her,” Hanna muses, stretching her arms and leaning back against her seat, “Come on. You really think we’re lying to you?”

“I think you’d do anything to be taken out for a movie of your choice,” Emily shoots back, narrowing her eyes. “ _Uno._ _Uno. Uno_.”

“Jesus, it’s just a game,” Hanna says.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Aria picks up her cards again as Hanna sighs loudly. Ali is directly behind Emily now and Emily is still staring at Hanna with that fierce look in her eyes. The two blondes’ gazes meet and Hanna nods slightly, the movement caught by Emily. The brunette opens her mouth but is quickly interrupted when Ali covers her eyes with her hands, which gives Hanna enough time to drop her green card and say, “ _Uno_!”

“Damn it!” Emily yells and Aria gives the remaining card in Hanna’s hand a strange look, mutters, “I still don’t get how this game works” and waits for Emily’s turn. Hanna thumps the table with her fist, hooting with triumph.

Ali laughs, kisses the top of Emily’s head and lets go. “Sorry, babe,” she says, taking a seat next to Emily.

“I nearly had her,” the brunette murmurs, dropping in her next card, but she still looks at Alison with a twinkle in her eyes and a bright smile across her face. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

Ali intertwines their fingers together and smiles. “Missed you,” she answers.

(Hanna meets Aria’s eyes from across the table. They both share a smile.)

“Where’s Spencer?” Aria asks, putting down her blue card. (Hanna’s heart grows warm at the name but she ignores the fluttery feeling in her stomach and smiles down at the table.)

“Visiting her parents in Philly, I think,” Alison says, “but we had a fun afternoon together.”

Hanna squeals loudly as she puts in her last blue card and Emily shoots Alison a playful glare, pursing her lips. Aria’s entire body seems to deflate as she looks down at her cards. “So, does that mean Hanna’s the winner?” When all three of them nod their heads, the smaller girl shakes her head and mutters, “Okay I’m apparently going to take her out to a movie then” and drops her deck.

Emily squints. “You could’ve still won, you know,” she points out.

“Nah.” Aria waves her off. “We both know that wasn’t going to happen.”

Hanna cleans up the cards and puts them away. Alison is rubbing Emily’s shoulder with one hand as she converses with Aria about what she and Spencer did for the whole afternoon. Apparently, they went around the town, looking for bookstores. But when Aria asks about their topics, Alison just smiles (Hanna doesn’t notice that the blonde’s smile is directed at her) and won’t say a peep.

(Hanna wonders if Caleb ever came up but decides not to ask.)

“Anyway, I just stopped by because Em here is going to take me out for dinner,” Ali tells them.

“I am?” Emily wonders out loud, grinning as Alison smacks her.

After they leave, Aria and Hanna crawl into the couch to watch some movies. Hanna is preoccupied, still wondering what Spencer and Alison were talking about during their time together. Aria doesn’t seem to mind the silence but reaches over to take her hand. (Everybody seems to know that a quiet Hanna means bad news.)

“They looked really happy, huh?” Hanna says out loud once a few seconds have passed.

“Yeah,” Aria agrees easily, “they did.” She pauses, squints at the blonde and whispers, “You can be happy too.” She doesn’t say it in a condescending way but in a way that makes it sound nothing but the truth and it’s possibly the first time in a long time that Hanna believes it.

(And for once, she doesn’t think of Jordan nor of Caleb.)

(Instead, she thinks of Spencer.)

 

* * *

**  
[Spencer]**

Spencer looks up from where she’s curled up on the couch, raising her eyebrows in surprise when she sees Emily outside the front door. Putting away _Wuthering Heights_ , she stands up and lets the other brunette in.

“Wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says lightly.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you,” Emily tells her, taking off her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack.

“No good ever comes from those words,” Spencer echoes, remembering Hanna’s words as she returns back to her seat and picks up the book. She takes out a hair clip and slides it in the page she was reading before she tucks it away and looks back at Emily, who is now sitting on the couch opposite her.

(For the past few weeks, Emily has had a smile on her face but this is the first time Spencer finds herself envying it.)

“What did you want to talk about?” Spencer asks, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

Emily’s knee starts shaking. She rubs the back of her neck and says, “I never really thanked you for what you guys did for me.” While there is unabashed happiness in her brown eyes, there is also immense relief and unimaginable gratefulness. Spencer’s smile widens.

“We already know, Em,” she says.

“I _know_ that but seriously—” Emily sighs, shaking her head. “Without you guys, I wouldn’t have Ali right now and she’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened since—since—” Obviously trying to look for an analogy to match Alison DiLaurentis’ existence, Emily comes up short.

“—since cheese puffs were invented?” Spencer supplies, laughing.

Emily laughs too, reaching out and wiping a few wayward tears. “If Hanna was here, I’d imagine she’d say that,” she mutters, “but yeah, since cheese puffs were invented.”

Spencer brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them, smiling at nothing in particular. (Hanna’s name has had that effect on her for a while now but as smart as she is, she still hasn’t come up with an answer for that.)

Emily grins at her like she knows exactly what she’s thinking.

(Maybe she does—Spencer doesn’t have an honest clue.)

“I know you’re thankful, Emily,” Spencer tells her earnestly, “but really, it’s no big deal. We just wanted you to be happy, that’s all. You should thank Hanna, though. She was the one who told me that we had to pull your heads out of your asses long enough to see how in love you guys are with each other.”

Emily’s grin widens and Spencer tries to come up with a memory from the past few weeks of seeing the other girl _this_ happy but comes up with none. Huh. The whole Uber A business has apparently brought out the worst _and_ the best in people. She’s glad that Emily and Alison found their way back.

“There’s actually another reason why I’m here,” Emily says, standing up from her seat and moving to the cabinets. She finds the hidden storage Spencer’s dad has and pulls out a few bottles of wine.  

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? To get drunk? What’s the occasion?” She stands too, following after Emily who goes out the backdoor, inclining her head and smiling broadly.

“A little celebration,” Emily answers, “but maybe I want to ask a few questions.”

“You can ask them right now,” Spencer tells her, a little bit confused as she grabs a couple of wine glasses.

“I need to get you a little tipsy first,” Emily explains shortly, “because you and I both know that when you deny something, you deny it _bad_.”

Spencer doesn’t respond. She follows after Emily to the backyard, where they sit on the steps and watch the sun set. The wine glasses lie forgotten on top of the grass so they take turns sipping alcohol straight from the bottle. The moment is quiet but buzzed—Spencer can feel _everything_ ; the wind in her hair, the alcohol in her system, the cold seeping into her skin.

“I wanted to talk to you about Hanna,” Emily tells her, after a short eternity.

(Spencer lied— _now_ she feels everything.)

“Everybody wants to talk to me about Hanna,” Spencer murmurs, putting down the bottle and shivering in the cold. “First Aria—then you. And you both seem to think that getting me drunk is the best way to ask it.”

Emily shrugs. “Seemed to be the best way.”

Spencer purses her lips, looks down at the grass. “What is it about Hanna?” she asks, slurring her words a bit. “She’s my friend—my best friend since we were fifteen. I broke her heart by loving the boy she loved. That’s that. What is about _Hanna_ that you want to talk about, Emily?” She adds a little bit of frustration in the last part, loathes herself for thinking that Hanna is _just_ a friend when the past few weeks have clearly proven that there’s a fine line between friend and—and—something _more_.

“I’m just worried, that’s all,” Emily tells her, “Really. I know that you guys are okay and all but…is there anything left you want to talk it out with her?”

Spencer thinks of Caleb, of the failed engagement, of Hanna’s words _I did it for me_.

“What’s left to talk about?” Spencer murmurs.

Emily nods at that, reaching out and taking a swing at the bottle. “You know, _stuff_. Leftover stuff.”

“I’m fine, Em.” There’s a hard edge to her tone. “Really.”

“And you need more wine.”

They spend a couple more minutes drinking. Spencer starts to get woozy but she manages to put down the bottle without breaking anything. Emily, her hair starting to frizzle, sighs loudly and leans back on her elbows, staring up at the stars.

“I love Alison DiLaurentis,” she says all of a sudden.

Spencer gives her a startled look. “Uh, yeah, I think pretty much the whole world knows you love Alison,” she says.

Emily’s up to the point of drunk where she just blurts whatever’s on her mind. That’s practically past the point where she gets confused about trees or of pavements. Spencer laughs, the previous topic forgotten, and lies back down on the ground.

“I love Alison DiLaurentis,” Emily repeats, sounding hopelessly dreamy.

“I know.”

“I’ve loved her for a really long time,” Emily adds, sounding proud of that fact.

“God, you are _so_ drunk right now.”

“Do you love Hanna the same way?”

Spencer pauses, her smile dropping. Emily glances down at her, looking completely serious but tipsy at the same time. The alcohol in her system continues to buzz, filling her veins and making her feel a bit dizzy but once the words have fully kicked in, Spencer sits up and feels suddenly very sober.

Emily is still staring at her.

“Why would you ask me that?” Spencer questions, dread in her stomach.

“Because you _do_ love her that way,” Emily responds, drunk and tipsy but completely certain, “and not the stupid, platonic way. Like me and Alison.”

“Alison and _I_ ,” Spencer barks, unable to help it.

Emily waves her off. “Whatever. But you and I both know that it’s true.”

Spencer shakes her head, feeling sick. The thought of her and Hanna _together_ —especially after everything they’ve been through—it shouldn’t even be possible. They _shouldn’t_ even be talking about it in the first place.

“Even _if_ it was true—and that’s a _big_ if—” Spencer snaps, “Hanna would never look at me that way.”

“You never know with Hanna,” Emily tells her helpfully, turning her body so that she’s facing her properly. Spencer finds herself thinking of when the blonde was kidnapped and how the world had seemed a little bleaker than ever.

(Hanna has that effect on the world—she makes everything beautiful, brighter, better.)

Emily nudges her carefully. “You never know unless you try,” she murmurs.

“What’s there to try, Em?” Spencer demands halfheartedly, “Hanna lost the two most important people in her lives—I can’t just _swoop_ in and—and—”

“She hasn’t lost _you_ ,” Emily cuts off determinedly.

“She can live without me.”

“ _No_.” Emily shakes her head, looking furious for half a second. “She _can’t_ live without you. Besides, Hanna without Spencer is like a—like a lawnmower without the freaking blades.”

Spencer laughs at the metaphor, shaking her head. Emily stares at her, jaw locked but brown eyes soft and warm. They both know the truth they’re facing but one is too stubborn to admit it out loud.

“She loves you,” Emily pushes on when Spencer doesn’t say anything else. “You know that. _I_ know that. What’s the point of waiting for a sign when you can just—”

“Okay fine.” Spencer sits up so fast her stomach lurches. Turning to Emily with a scowl on her face and her heart beating so loud inside her ribcage, she spits out, “I love Hanna _that_ way, the way you love Alison but the problem is, Hanna doesn’t love me the way Alison loves you.”

To her credit, Emily doesn’t flinch. Instead, she reaches out and grips Spencer’s shoulder tightly, her eyes dark and her mouth set in a straight line. The image of well needed support.

(Spencer feels like she’s going to collapse any second now, if it isn’t for Emily holding onto her.)

“You never know unless you try,” the other girl whispers, repeats her earlier sentiment.

Tears sting the back of Spencer’s eyes. “I don’t want to get hurt again,” she mutters, sounding completely pitiful even to herself.

Emily engulfs her in a tight embrace and Spencer buries her face against the other girl’s shoulder, sucks in a deep breath and closes her eyes.

(And all she can see is Hanna, looking away from her and saying, _I did it for me_.)

 

* * *

 

**[Aria]**

Aria raises _Great Expectations_ for Alison to see and laughs when the blonde’s cheeks turn red. They’re sitting in a new book café near Hollis, enjoying a cup of coffee and passing a few books around. The ambiance is warm and cozy, the air filled with classical music and young people weaving in and out of the small crowd, exchanging smiles and brushing elbows. Aria feels a little strange, sitting in a room full of college students and teenagers, but brushes the feeling aside. Oh well.

“Emily told me the story of this book a few days ago,” Aria murmurs, running a hand across the cover and grinning. “Who knew Alison DiLaurentis was such a romantic at heart?”

Alison returns the broad grin. “That was my way of making a move,” she shares slyly.

“Emily kept that memory of you for so long,” Aria tells her quietly, putting the book back on the table. “I guess it was her way of keeping you alive, when we all thought you were— _gone_.”

Whenever the topic of being dead is brought up, Ali always grows quiet, as if there are still some secrets chasing after her. But this time, she smiles and shakes her head.

“I kept a picture of all four of you,” the blonde admits. “Kept me going. I thought—well, I thought that at least, there were still some people out there who _truly_ loved me or the parts of me I had shown them.”

Aria smiles. She likes discovering pieces of Ali or uncovering layers of her. It’s almost like reading through a really good book overnight.

“We all love you,” she says, “but Emily loves you the most.”

(Aria thinks that Ali must enjoy listening to those words because she flushes and looks away, shy smile in place.)

“Anyway, what are your plans for the next few months?” Aria asks. With the book still in the publishing stage, she’s been spending a lot of time with the girls. Mostly with Hanna, because Hanna’s just stuck in her loft all day and forced to listen to Lucas rambling on about business plans and etc, and Ali because she’s been easing her way back to teaching. Emily and Spencer are busy most of the time, due to Emily’s college work and Spencer’s new job.

“I don’t know,” Ali says, shrugging, “Get a new job. Move to Paris. Wait for Emily to ask me to marry her— you know, just the usual things.”

Aria nearly spits out her drink. “ _What_?” she demands, coughing.

The blonde laughs good-naturedly. “Kidding,” she says, her smile falling slightly, “Well, I’m not, really. But I’m not in the position to make such drastic measures.”

Aria tilts her head to the side. “Don’t you realize just how much you can change your life in this very moment?” she asks, “I mean, you can literally go to Emily right now and ask her to marry you or you can pack up your things and book the next flight straight to Paris. Charlotte’s…she’s gone now and so is Rollins so nothing’s holding you back.”

(If Aria had told her all of this a few months ago with Ali still raw and grieving, the blonde would’ve snapped her head off.)

Alison sighs, rubs her lips together and looks away. “I’m just waiting for the next tragedy to strike,” she admits, “I don’t know. Maybe Toby’s house will blow up again? Or someone dies the minute we relax. I’m so used to being punished for being happy that I still can’t believe I’m sitting here right now, talking about the girl I thought I lost my chance with and enjoying an afternoon with my best friend.”

Aria gives her a sympathetic look. One way or another, they always end up talking about –A or Amoji or A.D. (It always comes to the point where Aria starts to hate everything that starts with _A_ , including her own name.)

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” she tells her friend earnestly. “That part is over, remember?”

 “I know, I know.” Alison looks tired, as if she’s been telling herself those same words for the past few months now. “Anyway, enough of that. What do you think about Spencer and Hanna, by the way?”

Aria, glad for the change of subject, laughs. “Oh,” she says, shaking her head and grinning, “Those two are idiots. They’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months now.”

“Five months,” Ali supplies.

“See? I was hoping that Spencer would make a move but apparently, that girl has other things to worry about,” Aria says, “and Hanna’s still healing from the whole thing with Jordan and Caleb. I guess they just need time.”

“They have _all_ the time in the world,” the blonde states.

“But God forbid that it takes them ten years to tell each other how they feel. That’s worse than you and Emily, because well—we thought you were dead.” They both laugh and Aria relaxes her shoulders, feels more ease than she has in a long, long time.

Alison reaches out and grabs _Great Expectations_ from Aria’s side. “Spencer’s always talking about work but she relaxes whenever Hanna’s around,” Ali tells her, “Like this one time, Spencer was rambling on and on about this really shitty client and she looked like this tight ball of uneasiness and frustration that was about to freaking explode. The minute she saw Hanna’s name ringing on her phone, however, she just _exhaled._ ”

“That is so adorable,” Aria gushes, laughing, “I mean, that’s—that right there—its _love_.”

(Aria’s heart doesn’t ache at the thought of it anymore.)

“There was this one time,” Aria tells the other girl in a hurry, “Hanna was trying to rearrange everything in her apartment. Like the whole place was a mess. She asked me for help so I went but there wasn’t anything I did that could make her happy. Then _Spencer_ waltzes in like she owns the place and puts the lamp on this side because apparently, it’ll give Hanna the lighting she needs for photo ops and Hanna freaking goes along with it.”

“Those two are perfect for each other,” Ali teases.

“We’ll just see how it goes then, I suppose,” Aria murmurs, sipping her drink.      

They talk about a few other things, such as Emily’s progress in her degree and the time span for Aria’s book. It takes ten, twenty and then an hour for them to finally hit home. They split the bill and leave with their arms looped around each other, Aria squeezing Ali’s shoulder as they part ways in the next intersection.

“Same time, next week?” Ali asks hopefully.

Aria nods enthusiastically. “Count on it,” she says.

“Invite me to your next Uno game with Hanna,” the blonde adds as she turns to leave and Aria laughs, wonders why anyone would ever want to play a round of Uno with Hanna, and turns around to head home.

She thinks of many things on her way. She thinks of Alison and her new life with Emily, of Hanna and a promising deal with Lucas about her career, of Spencer and her job which could lead to other opportunities. It’s nice to know how their lives have turned out—that after –A and Uber A, they can still be gloriously happy. (She thinks of it as a _fuck you_ to all the people who have wanted them down since day one.)

When she gets home and sees her parents all happily snuggled up on the couch in front of the TV, she feels happy. When she goes up to her room and checks her email from Jill, she feels happy. When she’s showered and dressed and lying in bed with a book propped open in front of her, she feels happy.

And she hasn’t felt like this in _such_ a long time.

She spends the next hour reading a few books around, slightly restless and wide awake. She goes downstairs for dinner but immediately heads straight to bed afterwards. Even with nightlight off and the silence throbbing in the air, she can’t sleep. Her mind is still running—full of Ali’s smile when she talks about her job, Emily’s moony eyes at the mention of her girlfriend, Hanna’s laugh at the funny moments on television and Spencer scribbling furiously in her notepad about work.

She sits up, rummages around her bed for her laptop and turns it on. She has a few unread emails from Ezra and Jill about other details concerning the book but she shuts the wifi off and opens a new page to Word.

She types in a title for a new book, a new idea— _Pretty Little Liars_ —and begins to write.

 

* * *

 

_**[fin.]** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking this ride with me! I really did enjoy writing this series and I hope you enjoyed reading it as well! Lovelots! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos will be well appreciated!


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